


how am i supposed to make you feel okay?

by blackwoodhart



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: 5+1 but make it like 12 +1, F/M, Unbeta'd, We Die Like Men, idk man i just want them to be happy, word vomit but articulate?????
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25894831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackwoodhart/pseuds/blackwoodhart
Summary: JJ had loved Kiara since the first time he met her.Kiara had only realised in the past year just how much she needed JJ in her life.or;every time JJ and Kie thought about being with the other until one time they both didBased off of Billie's song Wish You Were Gay(timejumps a lot)
Relationships: JJ & John B. Routledge, JJ & Kiara (Outer Banks), JJ & Pope (Outer Banks), JJ/Kiara (Outer Banks)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 126





	1. baby, I don't feel so good (six words you never understood)

Kiara Carrera marked her years by summers, not by birthdays or Christmas’ or spring break, but summer. She had started doing this in the fourth grade. 

On her first day at Kildare Elementary Kiara had immediately been the odd one out; her hair was too neat, her shoes too shiny, her backpack too new. Kiara was a kook and they knew it. Her first weeks at Kildare had been lonely. Most of the kids from the cut were as vicious as sharks when it came to kooks, even at this age, and, to them, Kiara was blood in the water. Lucky for her, John Booker Routledge seemed to like the chum.

He’d sat with her on his own volition, drawing Kiara’s attention from her sandwich as she sat alone on the bench in the schoolyard, more of a dust bowl with a rusting jungle gym which supposedly used to be a mix of the luxurious shade of mustard yellow and the unsettling acid green. Maybe that was rust. John B, as she came to know him, was a young beaming boy from the cut who appeared to like collecting oddities. Just like his father, notorious treasure hunter Big John, John B loved to collect things, they didn’t have to be shiny like Kiara, but to him they were priceless.

His first addition to his collection landed quite literally at John B’s feet at the age of six years old. JJ Maybank was covered in bruises, some greener than others, and bleeding profusely from his left nostril. As John B had gone to help the boy, his weathered grey shirt now closer resembling a torn sail, JJ had opened his mouth for John B to hear the first words from the boy.

“Motherfu-”

“JJ MAYBANK YOU COME RIGHT HERE!” their teacher, Mrs Willow had bellowed at the blonde miscreant from across the schoolyard, “AND YOU, ROUTLEDGE, IN MY CLASSROOM THIS INSTANT.” There was no request, it was a demand and upon entering the classroom John B had found himself unable to explain himself as JJ’s words spilled out and into the silent room.

“Mrs Willow, I know I'm wrong you don’t need to get him in trouble though! Mrs Willow, he was trying to help me up it wasn’t his fault some older boys threw the first punch and i-”

“I am well aware of what just occurred Mr Maybank,” said the woman, her grey eyes flicking between the pair as if analysing their excuses before they’d even been made up, “but as for you John B, I thought you knew better than to get yourself involved in a scene like that.” Mrs Willow had never gotten John in trouble before, not once, not even when he threw his pencil at Gracie May’s head and managed to make her bleed.

“He needed my help!” John B protested, “I had to help him, Miss, he’s still bleeding!” and at that, John B had taken the sleeve of his shirt and torn it away to hold to the other boy's nose. Mrs Willow’s eyes had softened as she ordered the pair to the nurse immediately.

John B’s second discovery had been Pope Heyward. It was made clear early on that Pope and JJ were a gazelle and a lion, and that, without John B as a buffer, JJ would have likely ripped Pope to shreds during his high school years. JJ was territorial and had initially resented having to share John B with someone else, but as weeks went on he shared that same protectiveness with Pope.   
JJ had always been the first to throw the punches in the yard if something was said about Pope, the boy was a genius and kids from the cut didn’t usually take well to outcasts, but the boys never started something they couldn’t finish. Even if finishing meant all three of them getting their nine-year-old asses whooped by the older kids.

Kiara was John B’s final discovery (human, at least). She hadn’t spoken a word to him that entire recess that he sat with her, but John B hadn’t taken this as a sign to stay silent. He had told her all about his dad Big John and his fascination with some mysterious wreck off the coast of their town. Next recess, he had shown off the new bruise on his arm from the latest scuffle he had had to haul JJ from. When Kiara finally asked ‘who’s JJ?’ timidly looking from her apple core to the brown-haired boy, John B’s face had split into a smile. He burst into action, running to the jungle gym where two boys sat across the highest beam. 

The sun glared into Kiara’s eyes and as she shielded herself from the glare she could make out a boy with glasses bushed up to his nose dangling his legs down the beam and opposite him a striking contrast of bright blonde hair looked down at John B, who was waving animatedly in Kiar’s direction. The darker boy slipped down the beam and joined John B in what looked like arguing with the blonde boy, who finally flipped down to join them.

After two weeks of John B dragging the other two to sit with Kiara during every single break, the Pogues invited her in and accepted her as one of their own. John B taught her to twist vines into strong rope that she could use to play games with the boys. She and Pope would compare homework and fair projects, often slipping a book to one of the other boys to hastily copy down and pass as their own. JJ taught her patience.

Over the next years of her life the boys became every minute of her life, every waking moment was spent with them, and those that weren’t were spent missing her boys. As she grew older the rumours started to circle as to why she hung around three teenage boys from the cut, about why they kept her around. As they grew older Kiara learnt to clean JJ’s knuckles on the kitchen bench after he decided to clear up a story or two.

Now she was taller, her boys towered above her and their boundaries had expanded from John B’s backyard to the whole marsh.

That’s how JJ found her, at the end of John B’s dock staring out at the water. The sun was setting rapidly as summer drew to a close and the cold nights crept closer in on their blissful break. Kiara’s legs dangled off the edge of the warped wood, toes grazing the still water and to anyone else Kie would have looked perfectly fine.

But JJ knew better.

Her shoulders were slumped forwards and her head was fixed ahead of her, locked onto the pink horizon. As JJ sank down next to her Kiara didn’t acknowledge him, but she shifted closer.  
“I’m sorry for what happened earlier,” JJ began, “I shouldn’t have gone after him for you, I’m sorry you felt I thought you couldn’t do it yourself.” JJ truly was trying. For all his jokes at Kie’s expense, he knew how much it meant to her to be just as strong as them.

“I should have let you hold you own, but I hated how he was looking at you Kie! I’m sorry..” JJ’s voice trailed off as he let his gaze shift from her face to the water.

Kiara’s curls brushed against his face as the weight of her head pushed down on his shoulder. Breathing a sigh of relief, JJ lifted an arm and circled it around Kiara’s bare shoulders, allowing himself just a moment like this, of peace, before continuing.

“You know none of its true, don't you Kie?” He asked in earnest. She replied with the slightest of nods, burying her face into the shoulder of his shirt. “You’re not just some chick we keep around to stare at, although that does come up from time to time you know?”

The lightest of giggles came from his shoulder and Kiara lifted her head to smile at him.

“I know JJ. I know…” Her gaze landing on his hand which was resting on her hip now. “I just wish they wouldn’t say it, they’re meant to be my parents, aren't they? Meant to have my back and believe me, not some kook!” Exasperation painted her voice and she pulled her eyes to meet his.

“But, as long as I know that it's not true then its ok, right?” The hope in her voice pained him, JJ had always hated to see Kiara, his Kiara, belittled by some stupid comment made by someone who knew absolutely nothing.

Rising from the edge of the dock JJ held his hand out to her and smiled.

“Of course Kie, come on let's go back to the others, yeah?


	2. I'll never let you go (five words you'll never say)

The world was spinning again.

The stars shone brightly above Kiara’s head as she moved amongst the other teenagers pulsing with the bass of someone’s speaker. Tonight was meant to be an easy night, no heavy drinking, maybe a joint or two, but then John B had bet her ten dollars that she couldn’t do three straight shots in a row as a pregame and all bets were off. Now she was four beers deep and thoroughly enjoying herself, feeling the warmth of people around her feeding into her space.

The Boneyard parties were always fun, being the one place where all three walks of Outer Banks life could exist somewhat harmoniously.A warm breeze blew her hair around her face, twisting and writing her body as she danced amongst a blur of faces, Kiara couldn’t have cared less who she was next to, even if they ended up being insufferable. Which tonight, sadly, they did.

Mason Carlisle. Of all people, she had had to wind up dancing next to Mason Carlisle. Mason had been crushing on Kie since about seventh grade, to the point that when she had joined him and his boys at the Kook Academy, he almost bordered on stalking. Mason had snuck into every lavish party that Sarah Cameron had dragged her to, he had always found her at the beach and almost always came into the Wreck just before the end of her shift.

Once Kiara had reunited with her Pogues after her now-infamous Kook Year, the boys had been outraged by the audacity of Mason, who had shortly after been visited by three very angry boys.  
And, don’t get Kie wrong; people always deserve a second chance, but when she felt something warm splash across her chest she couldn’t help but snap her head to the offender. As expected, it was Mason’s now empty cup that Kiara had snatched and poured over his head. With a yell, he stepped back, bumping into a few of his boys in doing so.

“Yo! What the fuck man?” Mason yelled over the still thumping bass.

“I could ask the same damn thing!” Kiara cried, gesturing to her soaking tank top which was now starting to stick to her in the warm salty air. Taking a step forward, Kiara was gearing up to begin an explosive rant directly into Mason’s face, with four years of disgust finally spilling over the edge, but before she could draw a breath she was yanked backwards.

“Woah,” said a voice, smooth and familiar to Kiara’s ears, “the mediator becomes the instigator; how about that?” JJ’s hold was strong on her forearm, but his eyes were locked on the Kook in front of him.

Mason was now glowing with anger. It was no secret JJ got around with half the girls who came to the boneyard, but there was a personal offence between JJ and Mason’s sister, Angela, who Kiara had had to escort from the Chateau late one Friday last summer.

“Yeah that’s right, get your boys to come to help you out, Carerra.” Mason snarled, taking another step towards the pair.

JJ was now in front of Kiara, who had become a lot less graceful since she’d lost her solace in her dancing. He was still calm, but his breathing had sharpened, and as Kiara rested her head against his back to keep her balance, she felt his arm swing behind him to hold her against him. His right hand was slowly curling into a fist.

“No, JJ!” Kiara was pulling him away without another word, which he seemed to not mind at all. Mason’s jeers echoed behind them for less than a second before being swallowed up into the night, the path Kiara had dragged them through being filled behind them by more dancing bodies.

The walk back to the chateau was a long one when one of you was so drunk that they couldn’t form a cohesive sentence. JJ was trying to ask her about Mason. 

“Did he hurt you? I swear to God if he laid a hand on you..” his threat hung in the air. It was something Kiara would remember the next morning, something for her to drag through her mind a hundred times over before she’d even finished breakfast.

All Kiara could do was shake her head and keep her eyes on her feet, which made it pretty clear to JJ exactly how long he had to get her to a bathroom before she hurled all over his favourite converse.

They did, in fact, make it to the Chateau, with two minutes to spare. JJ had propped Kie against the kitchen bench as he walked around flicking light switches and swiping bottles into the plastic bin at the end of the counter. He had just made it to the pull out couch in the living room and begun to fling pillows haphazardly to the floor before the sound of the contents of Kiara’s stomach re-emerging had broken the peaceful silence. 

JJ rolled his eyes at the sight of Kie practically crumpled by the toilet, retching into it, but nevertheless crouching next to her and pulling loose strands of curls away from her face.

Once Kiara had decided the show was over, JJ assumed her usual duties from when they returned from the Boneyard. Seeing as John B and Pope had both been preoccupied with different people before they’d left, JJ felt it was safe to assume that they had time before the pair crashed through the back door, which was always left unlocked after parties, at some ungodly hour.

Handing Kiara a glass of water, JJ left to finish with the pullout, finding blankets in a cupboard in the hall and replacing the pillows he had previously abandoned.

The greatest trial, however, turned out to be getting Kie cleaned up. Normally she was the mother hen after parties, making sure they changed and rinsed the beer from their hair before sleeping sprawled across various items of furniture. Tonight she was giggles and loose limbs and JJ could barely get her upright on the pullout before her body slumped forward, a smile creeping across her face.

“Kie,” he started, assessing the damage done to her top, which was now sticky from dried beer, “Kie, I’m gonna need you to help me here.” But Kiara made no move to help him, instead sliding up the pullout to rest against the back of the couch.

She stared at JJ with a smirk plastered across her mouth, and normally JJ would be leaping to make the joke first, but he couldn’t find his voice after Kiara looked him square in the eye and said quietly, “you’ve been talking about undressing me for years JJ, make it count.”

Then she fell into giggles again and lifted her hands ever so slightly forward to show she was willing to at least try to cooperate with him. JJ’s hands were cold, they always were no matter the weather, and Kiara jumped when his fingers slipped under her tank and dragged up her sides to peel the still damp fabric from her skin. Kie almost squirmed under his gaze, his eyes fixed to the hem which his hands were raising.

Suddenly, JJ’s eyes flashed and he looked away. 

“Kie? I just thought do you have a b- KIARA YOU COULD HAVE WARNED ME!”

And then she fell apart in laughter, sliding from the pullout and stumbling blindly to John B’s room, tugging the first shirt she could find from the tangled covers of his sheets. When she returned to the living room JJ was still staring at his hands. 

She crawled back over him on the pullout and slipped the shirt on over her tank, slipping her arms through the holes and throwing the beer-stained fabric at JJ’s head. Naturally, that snapped him to attention and he threw the tank over his shoulder, sliding down the bed next to her and rolling onto his back. The lights in the room were dim, now only being illuminated by the back porch and the crack under the bathroom door.

Kiara rolled onto her side and stared at JJ. They’d shared the pullout a hundred times, but the process was usually accompanied by about a hundred jokes from JJ about finally getting her into bed. Tonight, his eyes were tightly shut and his hands were trapped under his legs. 

After staring at the boy for a few seconds, Kie leant forward and pressed a kiss to JJ’s cheek. His eyes opened and he turned to face her, their faces now only millimetres apart. 

“Thank you, JJ.”

The slightest of smiles crept to his face as one of his arms came up and slid behind her head as she curled into his side further. JJ didn’t have any nightmares that night.


	3. i laugh alone like nothings wrong (four days has never felt so long)

Sarah Cameron was a bitch. Kiara had decided she didn’t care if she had perfect hair or a pretty laugh or loved saving baby sea turtles almost as much as Kiara did. No, nothing would ever redeem Sarah Cameron.

But now Kiara had to redeem herself. 

Her kook year, or five months, three weeks and five days, (but who’s counting?) had been all it took for the boys to make up their mind on her. Not really all the boys, just JJ.

John B had been the simplest to win over, practically fainting at the sight of Kie, who had recently made the all-important discovery of crop tops. Pope was shortly after when Kie took him and the boys fishing and won his respect back by catching dinner for the four of them.

JJ took the longest. Four days and eleven hours (but, again, who's really counting?)

JJ had made it no secret just how angry he was at her, making snide remarks whenever she messed something up, or an offhand comment whenever she offered to do something only a kook could, like shouting a meal or paying for bait.

Kie tried to brush it off, ignoring the glares Pope would shoot at JJ while John B dragged her into another conversation about what she’d been up to while she was gone., but it still hurt.  
In John B’s backyard one warm evening the four of them had been scheming their next kegger, doing the math on how much it would cost for the four of them to split the kegs.  
Kiara had perked up at the idea of something she could be useful for, something to use her money for, something to get her back in the good books while getting back at her parents.'

“I can just ask mom and dad? I’ll tell them it’s for lunch with some girls or something!

“Yeah Kiara, buy your way back in, just like you did with the Camerons”, JJ had spat from across the fire. The glow illuminating his face, all sharp angles and jawline and piercing blue eyes that Kiara hadn’t noticed before. Maybe things truly had changed around here.

Time stopped around the fire. Pope and John B shared a glance across the pit and the electricity sparked across it.

It built.

And built.

Until Kiara exploded.

“Just so you know, JJ, I didn’t buy my way into Sarah’s life, okay? You have no idea just how much I hated the Kook academy, JJ! None!” her voice carried across the marsh and was met by a sour smirk from the blonde boy. Her hands were shaking at her sides, flitting in and out of fists. 

“And it's not like you checked on me, is it? Not like you even knew how miserable I was! It doesn’t matter if you think I’m full Kook now JJ! They think I’m a Pogue, just like you!”

“Well geez, Kie, it’s not like you came rushing back the second she bailed or anything..” JJ was prodding at her, waiting for another explosion, and if she had been smarter, if she hadn’t had her share of the beers that night already, maybe she would have held her tongue.

Maybe.

“I HATE HER, JJ, OKAY? ARE YOU HAPPY?” her throat tore against the words she hadn’t wanted to admit. It was easier to just say they weren’t talking, and as far as her parents were concerned Kiara and Sarah were just not on speaking terms.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes against the moment. She could just stop there, offer no further explanation and storm off, just like they all expected her to, but now wasn’t the time to back down.

Kiara opened her mouth to say her next piece calmly, as if not to scare him away, but it all tumbled out like word vomit and she could barely keep up with her mouth.

“I’m sorry I left JJ, and I’m sorry I hurt you and I know how it makes you feel when people just disappear and I know I promised you I wouldn’t but i-” her words were bitten off as blonde hair and tan skin filled her vision and she was swallowed by JJ’s arms.

He was stronger than she remembered and his chin rested on the top of her head now, his arms had her flush against his chest which had filled significantly since she’d last seen him, but that was beside the point.

The point was Kiara was crying now, sobbing really. Her hands buried in his shirt and tears tracking down her cheeks, darkening the light grey of the front of JJ’s shirt.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Kiara kept repeating her apologies into JJ’s chest over and over as his hands hovered over her. Over her hair, her shoulders, hips and waist, before finally settling on her upper back, pulling her closer yet.

Time was liminal as the fire cracked and spat behind the pair.

Pope and John B didn’t move. They had both spent the past four days listening to JJ spit like a cobra about how disgusting Kiara was, how much he hated her. How she could never be one of them again and how he knew she would bail and he saw it coming and there was nothing any of them could do because what's the point in having her back if she’s just going to leave again?

Neither of them had brought up how, when JJ had smoked just enough to bring his night to one constant blur, he told them about how he’d made sure to stop in at a couple of Kook parties. He’d always been keeping an eye on her, called it ‘keeping up with the Joneses’, but the boys knew better.

Slowly, Kie came back to focus as she listened to the steady slamming of JJ’s heart against his chest.

Over and over.

And she still hadn’t stopped apologising.

She left him and she knew it. After years of promises. After he’d finally told her about his mom and the bruises and the night she’d told him to sit tight and wait for her to come back and unlock the bedroom door.

But still, she’d left.

JJ’s hand was brushing down her curls, his lips making a quiet shhh sound as he held onto her.

Time slipped away and before she knew it JJ was pulling at her arm once again.

“Come on, Kie.”

Kie. Not Kiara. Kie

She opened her eyes and glanced around. Pope and John B had apparently abandoned the fire some while ago because it spat disgruntled embers into the sand around it.

Kie pushed off of JJ and straightened, wiping her eyes and brushing the hair from her face. The cool night air settled quickly around her as she lost the warmth from JJ. She could feel him staring at her, but couldn’t bear to look up. She didn’t want to know what it would mean if she looked at him the way her heart wanted her to. 

That was a thought for another day. One where she was significantly drunker and he was significantly happier with her.

For now, she settled with taking the hand extended to her, accompanied by a boyish grin, and letting it walk her back to the Chateau where that hand would slip away and leave her alone with her thoughts and the cold and what it all meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls let me know how you're enjoying this


	4. if three's a crowd

Without a doubt, the best night of the week was Friday.

Friday marked the end of another week trapped in school, another week closer to summer break. It was the one night where all of them were free every single week. Almost. This Friday Pope had been called away to help Heyward with deliveries, which was kind of fair enough, as fish had been drawn into the marsh from last weekend’s storm and Pogues had stolen him every day that week.

So now, John B, JJ and Kie were sprawled in the hammock in the backyard of the Chateau. The heavy green leaves shielded the trio from the afternoon sun as they laughed among themselves. JJ’s hip was digging into Kiara’s as she wiggled her toes in John B’s face.

As the Pogues had spent more and more time together they discovered that, no matter how hard they tried to avoid it, there would always be awkward moments amongst them. There was no denying that Kiara was, in fact, a girl. The only girl in a group of teenage boys. The only girl in a group of boys who spent their entire lives either in the water or roughhousing.

John B and Kiara were watching with grins plastered to their faces, tears in their eyes, as JJ reenacted the way some girl had been trying, and failing, to flirt with him during lunch that day.

As the three of them regained their breath and JJ’s story came to an end Kie found herself sliding into JJ’s side. It was nearly the end of school for the year and even evenings like this had become warmer than usual, meaning the three of them were in shorts and t-shirts. Kiara jumped as she came into contact with JJ’s bare chest, warm against her side.

Internally? Kiara was losing her mind. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment the lines blurred and he stopped just being JJ and became JJ.

It had been completely sudden. Her feelings for JJ had completely crept up on her, like a lion and a deer. One day she’d watched JJ jump off the dock in the backyard of the Chateau and just thought wow. She found herself listening to JJ’s stories of the girls who tried to get his attention and felt herself sour whenever she recognised the name of one of the girls. She was totally fucked.

Externally? She barely reacted, using her right hand to reach over her stomach and poke JJ’s side where it pressed against her.

JJ laughed and raised his arm and Kie immediately thought to brace herself against whatever type of roughhousing she was about to be subjected to. Instead, he brought it down behind her head, which had been raised as she looked at him.

This was a new type of ease, or not really ease, but it was something and it was new and John B’s eyes were wide as he glanced between the pair. JJ hadn’t motioned like he had done anything out of the ordinary which made Kiara boil internally.

Had she misinterpreted this whole thing? Was he really always like this and she had only just noticed? Was she being totally unreasonable?

As soon as the moment came, it passed and the three were back to discussing the weather tomorrow. Perfect swell for the first time in weeks and JJ had practically salivated when they’d checked the surf report from Kiara’s phone, crowding around it and jostling to check for themselves.

As hard as she tried to refocus on the conversation happening around her, all Kiara could think about was the heat of JJ next to her and the feeling of his arm behind her head. She couldn’t take her eyes off of his mouth, trapped in the thought of just what might happen if she just so happened to shift so that she slid closer into him when his mouth formed the shape of her name.

“Right, Kie?”

She could hardly form words as her brain turned to mush at the way he grinned at her. John B was laughing quietly to himself, a fist against his mouth and Kiara felt her cheeks turn her. She had totally been caught and they all knew it.

Clearing her throat, Kie finally brought her eyes to meet JJ’s blue ones and finally managed a feeble hmmm?. Yeah, great work Kiara!

“I said,” JJ said through a bright white smile, “seeing as John B never takes me up on a surf contest because he knows I will totally kick his a-”

“Hey!” interrupted John B, smacking at JJ’s legs, not without a fond smile.

JJ looked away from Kie to shoot his best friend a lopsided grin.

“As I said; kick his ass, and you are my only worthy adversary!”

Kiara’s eyebrows shot up as she stared at him incredulously. 

“Adversary?” she began, watching as JJ’s grin crept further up his face, “what did you do this morning, swallow a dictionary?”

“Actually it was a thesaurus.”

“A thesaurus? Are you hearing this John B?”

But as the pair turned to look to their friend they noticed he was motioning to get up.

John B slid from the oversized hammock and raised his arms above his head.

“I need a shower man,” he said, sniffing the armpit of his shirt and grimacing, “but you have fun under JJ’s armpit Kie!” And just like that, he was striding purposefully off into the house.  
Not before shooting a wink at JJ, who was now scowling.

For a moment Kiara thought maybe she should get up too, make some excuse about needing to start on dinner or anything to break the tension, but before she could even move JJ was sinking back down into the hammock.

His movement unsettled Kie’s balance and suddenly she was sliding even further, the momentum causing her to brace herself sharply against his chest.

When did this become so awkward? When it was just the two of them these moments were nowhere as loaded as this one right here, where John B was certainly watching them from the bathroom window.

JJ shook the seriousness off with the flash of a smile.

“Wow, Kie, this is all it took for you to fall for me?”

And she knows it’s a joke. She knows he’s just flirting with her absently, just like every time before. But his face is so close, and his arm has drooped down towards her waist and did he just look at her mouth?

JJ. Cool, calm and collected JJ with his endless jokes and flirting and looking good Kie drew a sharp breath and looked back up to her eyes. The slightest tip of his chin brought their mouths even closer together and Kie couldn’t help herself.

“Got you rattled, Maybank?”

The moment broke and his arm snaked away from her waist and back around to his side elbow nudging her in the ribs as he went.He practically rolled from the hammock and jumped to his feet. The grin that had slipped was back and he took two steps back towards the Chateau.

“Come on Kie, the only thing scaring me is your cooking!”


	5. and two is us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of abuse and violence  
> please read with care if you are triggered easily! <3

Grief is no excuse for bad decisions, but it appeared to be Kiara’s only one of late  
.  
Kissing Pope hadn’t exactly been at the top of her to-do list. Amongst the fighting for their lives and running from their parents, JJ getting his ass kicked by Luke and John B becoming a fugitive, Pope and his crush seemed like the least important thing on her agenda.

In the moment she’d taken one look at Pope, her best friend leaving on a boat to disappear off the face of the Earth for some indefinite period and the other with a court hearing right around the corner, and decided there had to be something she could do. And so she kissed Pope.

In hindsight, she’d never really thought about kissing him before, in fact, Pope was probably the last of the Pogues she’d consider macking, but he was there and he told her he loved her and isn’t that all we really want at the end of the day?

The fallout had been much worse than expected.

Kiara had had to speak to Pope the next day over the phone and tell him she was sorry for leading him on that. The call went about as well as you could expect it to when two of your best friends were pronounced dead and the remaining three were under house arrest.

By day three Kie started to worry. It was no surprise that JJ had disappeared, John B was the closest thing he had to anything resembling a normal family. His brother.

The fourth night the storm had slowed to a consistent drizzle along the Outer Banks.

Kie lay awake, staring at the ceiling in the dark, on top of her sheets in the jeans she’d been convinced to put on that day. The only light in her room was the faint glow of her alarm clock on her nightstand. It read 11:42.

She’d been lying there for days (or maybe two hours) and it was so incredibly selfish of her, but she couldn’t stop wishing she knew where JJ was. While it was right on par for JJ to disappear whenever something went seriously wrong, it was Kie’s usual job to wonder where he was and how to take care of him.

As the clock flashed 00:17 lightning flashed outside her window, illuminating the balcony of her second-floor room. A boy was standing on it, soaking wet and almost pressed against the window and Kiara suppressed a scream as the room filled with light and she slid across her bed to hide on the other side.

A hand pressed against the windowpane of her double french doors and another held a phone to his face.

JJ

“Jesus Christ!” Kiara mumbled to herself, rising shakily to her feet and making her way across the room to him, flicking the latch and swinging the doors wide to let him in.

JJ shot her a casual smirk and slunk through under her arm.

“Took your sweet time didn’t you, Kie?”

Kie’s eyes flashed as she turned to flick on one of her lamps, the room filling with a soft glow, “took my time? How long were you there for?”

JJ lifted his wrist to mock checking the time.

“Ten minutes maybe?” he said with a shrug.

“Ten minutes!” Kiara was struggling to keep her voice down at this stage.

JJ had gone completely off the air for 108 hours and here he was, creating a puddle on her bedroom floor, shaking, his face covered in…

“ _What the FUCK?_ ” Kiara leapt forward as he turned to take his jacket off and swing it across the end of her bed, “what happened to you JJ?!” her voice was barely a wiper and she didn’t dare think of what would happen if her voice carried downstairs to her parent's room.

Nothing was a more cardinal sin in her father’s eyes than one JJ Maybank undressing in his daughter’s room past midnight in the summer holidays.

JJ’s face was a mess of bruises. Some were beginning to turn green, even yellow, while the one above his cheek and on his temple were a brilliant purple. His lip was split in about two places and the dark marks under his eyes told Kie all she needed to know.

“Oh my God, J.”

There were no other words Kie could use, her throat was dried up and she couldn’t drag her eyes away from his face.

It was like JJ could read her mind, eye flashing with something like remorse.

“I had nowhere else to go, Kie. he found me at the Chateau, not before he found his key missing. I can’t go to Pope and I can’t go to the police. You’re all I’ve got, Kie.” And with that, slid down her bed and onto the floor.

Kie made shushing noises and dropped down next to his, brushing hair from his face and pressing gentle kisses onto his temple. Her arms were tight around his as JJ shook with sobs, his hands gripping at her biceps as she crouched next to him.

“Come on J,” she offered gently, pulling at his arms and rubbing a hand lightly up his back, “let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

Once Kiara had managed to get JJ sat sturdily on the toilet in her ensuite, she turned her attention to the small medicine cabinet she’d left fully stocked ever since the boys had had a run-in with the oyster beds on the marsh.

“Is it okay if you take some of this off?” Kie queried, not wanting to push too far.

“Damn Kie, any excuse to get me out of these rags huh?” He smirked.

There was something behind that smile that Kie had never been able to place before. For a long while, she had assumed it was something bitter, some sort of resentment. Now she knew what it was. Hope.

JJ raised his arms with a wince as Kie slipped the muddied fabric over his head.

His chest was a water paint canvas of greens and purples and yellow.

Tears sprung into Kiara’s eyes as she sank back against the counter to take him in. JJ had always been invincible in her eyes. Untouchable. And here he was, less bloodied and badly bruised, crumpled in her bathroom, begging to be saved.

“No Kie don’t, please,” He leant forward, gently resting his hands on her waist and leaning his head against her abdomen, “you’ll make me cry too.”

In a perfect world, Kie would have stopped crying, she would have patched him up and kicked Luke’s ass, or none of this would have ever happened. But it isn’t a perfect world and the tears spilled hot down her face, splashing into JJ’s sandy hair.

“Okay,” she said with a broken voice, ‘“okay.”

Taking a washcloth Kie took to wiping down his face, which clarified what was simply mud and what was really there. She helped him stand and brought him to sit opposite her in the bathtub and for a quick minute, the pair were flushed pink as he wrestled out of his jeans. She let him wipe at his torso, leaning over him to wash his hair.

Both their jeans were abandoned on the bathroom floor and the spray from her shower head caused her tank to cling to her torso. They’d spent all summer together, more often than not wearing nothing but a swimsuit, but this was more intimate, more real.

Once she’d decided JJ was actually clean, she leant him against the counter and dabbed antiseptic into the small cuts and scrapes along his face, working her way down to his chest. He sucked a sharp breath in through gritted teeth ash she wiped against a particularly dark mark on his stomach.

She’d mumbled a quiet sorry as she pulled her hand back sharply, which in turn caused him to flinch and turn his face away from her. Her eyes had raised to meet his and she’d brought her other hand to his face.

JJ leant into her hand and closed his eyes, breathing a long, measured breath and slouching against her touch.

For all her hippie, do-gooder clothing, Kie was thankfully in possession of more than once pair of loose unisex pants which JJ took gratefully from her and slipped over his still damp boxers.  
Kie slipped into her bed after drawing the curtains and making sure her bedroom door was locked, a chair slid under the handle for good measure.

JJ stood in the doorframe of the bathroom, staring.

“So… where am I going?”

Kie sat up and looked at him in confusion.

“Here, J.” She smiled, patting the space next to her, “here with me.”

His hesitance had her on edge like maybe she was crossing a boundary. To be completely real, they probably were.

JJ’s legs brushed against hers as he lowered himself down the bed and settled next to her.

Scratch boundaries. They’d been completely blown out of the water.

The careful space between them remained until just before 2 am when Kie rolled over to look at JJ. His breathing hadn’t evened out and his eyes snapped away from her, up to the ceiling. One arm was resting behind his head while the other was flat, palm up, in the space between them.

Swallowing her pride, Kie raised her head and closed her eyes before resting against the warmth of JJ’s chest.

She felt the hammering of his heart pick up against her ear, felt the intake of breath which didn’t get released. She’d overstepped something serious and Kie was starting to think about moving back away when his arm circled up around her, pulling her closer.

Kie settled in, feeling the warmth of JJ against her and focusing on the things she could hear; the rain beating against her roof, the wind outside, this boy’s heart against his ribcage.

For a moment, just for a second, she thought she heard something else. Thought she heard his voice. Thought he said her name, followed by something that sounded vaguely like _I love you._


	6. one slipped away

It really shouldn’t matter. Like it  _ really _ shouldn't matter.

Kie  _ never _ hooked up with boys at keggers, in fact, on more than one occasion, the Pogues had taken the absolute piss out of her when she’d come home alone for weekends in a row.

What Kie did do was dance.

She danced with everyone she pleased, mostly it was Tourons she’d managed to put in a trance by the bonfire. Tonight her Touron had sandy blonde hair and was dressed in board shorts he’d clearly never surfed in and a shirt far too expensive for the bedraggled Boneyard on this side of the island.

Kie had split from the group almost immediately, sitting next to a few of the people from the Kook Academy who hadn’t cared about her reputation as a snitch. She’d been laughing loud enough for her voice to carry across the sand on the wind, over the bass of something too loud and land on JJ, who had been studiously ignoring the distance between them.

Hours had passed now and Kie had moved between groups, mingling with just about everyone, warm cups of beer trading for a bottle of something stronger, her movements were looser and her hair was spilling down her back as she spoke to stranger after stranger.

The sandy-haired Touron had all but flung himself on her once she’d come over to speak to his group.

It was unsurprising. Kie was gorgeous, something he hadn’t denied her of over the years. After her return from Kooklandia, Kie had changed in more ways than one. She had learnt to take care of her once wild hair, grown out of baggy shorts and too loose t-shirts. Now she was all legs and glowing skin and bright white teeth and clothes she  _ knew _ would bring the attention to her.

Now the Touron had his hands on her hips as she danced by the fire with him. Kie had her back to the boy who was grinning down at her. Then she’d turned, almost out of nowhere, and planted a kiss right on the boy’s mouth.

JJ knew he should have been laughing, cheering and hollering just like he had when Pope had finally landed a night with a girl from the Cut, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

John B slid next to him on the large log he’d situated himself on at the start of the night.

“Hey man, is that Kiara?” John B asked, his voice raised in question as he clocked the girl over by the fire. The Touron’s hands were in her hair. That shouldn’t matter.

“Yeah,” JJ grumbled. It was final. JJ knew it shouldn’t be having this effect on him. Kie had seen him wander off with plenty of girls. Been the one to usher them from the house early on Sunday mornings when JJ had been glaring from across the kitchen.

But something had changed over the period when John B and Sarah had been missing. Pope had fallen out with Kiara, which was understandable but also unbearable, leaving the two of them to each other. Too many nights blackout drunk on the kitchen floor of the Chateau. Getting too close, saying words no one else could hear, sleeping in a mess of tangled limbs and tears and promises.

Then the tether had snapped. 

The phone call had come at 4:28 on a Saturday morning.

Kie had been sprawled across the pull-out couch in the living room of the Chateau, perfectly happy to be fast asleep, JJ curled at her side like an extra-large cat, when her phone had blared from the coffee tabled.

The voice of the unknown caller had been all too familiar.

Kie had screamed, tears running down her face as JJ shot awake next to her, snatching the phone from her and asking a million questions of John B. Where were they? Were they safe? Did they find the gold? The call ended when John B warned them about using all the minutes of their burner phone and promised to call every second day to give them updates.  _ I love you guys, take care of each other until I get home _ .

“Yo JJ, you good?”

JJ hadn’t even noticed he was standing until John B had tugged at his sleeve from where he remained sitting.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m all good man,” he trailed off, brushing at John B’s hand, eyes still locked on Kiara’s silhouette, “just gotta get some air”.

“Get some air?” he heard John B ask incredulously, “how fuckin high are you, dude?”

But John B let his friend go, and JJ felt the shadows closing in around his eyes, a sign that he had had more than enough of his share of the keg.

Alas, he made his way back towards the keg on the other side of the fire, draining two more cups before walking off with his refill and finding himself warped around a girl with brown hair and brown eyes and tanned skin.

The night bled on and JJ lost sight of Kiara and her Touron as the crowd ebbed and expanded with the comings and goings of more and more partygoers, locals and Tourons alike.

The girl with the brown hair was kissing his neck, her hands roving across his chest and up under the bottom of his shirt. He tried not to think about the fact it was Kie who bought it for him. 

The cup in his hand was empty and soon dropped to the sand, joining plenty of others. He tried not to think about the way he knew Kie would drag him out here the next morning to help clean up the rubbish.

His hands wrapped around her waist, his eyes glued shut as he kissed her. It was too harsh, too fierce. He tried not to think about the way Kie had looked kissing the sandy-haired boy.

Soon the girl had JJ walking backwards towards the bush, staggering and laughing along with her. They made their way up the track, along back streets, until they fell into JJ’s bed at the Chateau. 

He tried not to think about the sharpness of this girls hips, he tried to focus on the way they dup into his hand. Not about how Kie was all curves.

He tried not to focus on the way this girl’s long brown hair wasn’t curly. Or the way her voice was too high pitched. Or the way her nails were more like talons than fingernails.

Once it was over, she saw herself out.

JJ heard the front door bang and saw Kiara walk past the bedroom door to the kitchen. Heard her sigh and the sound of the tap filling a cup, then the sound of the fold-out couch sinking under her weight.

He wondered if she’d been there when he’d stumbled blindly through the door with the brown-haired girl. If she’d heard the whole thing. If she’d heard the girl saying his name. The kisses and the moans.

Most of all, JJ wondered if Kie had heard when the girl slapped him.

If she had heard him say her name.


	7. Is there a reason we're not through? (is there a 12 step just for you?)

The sandy-haired Touron hadn’t been a Touron at all, his name was Jackson and he moved in on Kiara’s side of the island.

He was tall and nice and cared more about the ocean than any of the other Pogues did. Suddenly, Kiara was never around, she was always off in Kooklandia with Jackson and his BMW and rich Kook friends.

It felt like ninth grade all over again.

After the phone call from John B, while he and Sarah were still fugitives and JJ and Kiara had assumed the positions of official occupants of the Chateau, the two had become closer than ever before. JJ hated that he let it happen.

Of course, it had been too good to be true, he should have known that she’d leave again one day.

John B and Pope didn’t seem too worried, brushing off Kiara’s absence as the normal beginning of a relationship. Because that's what it was. A relationship. 

The Pogues had caught Kiara and Jackson down at Rixton’s Cove one evening, an evening that had been meant to be a Pogue night. Kiara had claimed she’d forgotten, even offered to go get them some more drinks when she dropped Jackson home. JJ had turned and walked away, electing to ignore his name on Kiara’s lips.

He hadn’t expected it to hurt so much the second time around, maybe he’d even expected it to not hurt at all. His guard had been down as he played house with Kie over those two months that their world was up in flames, a decision he now felt had been mortally wounding.

Nearly a week passed before JJ crossed paths with Kiara again, much to his disappointment, as he’d been avoiding her like the plague ever since the night at Rixton’s.

His eyes had met her across the street where the local shops stood, weatherbeaten boards glaring the sun into his eyes. She was wearing kook clothes again, all short skirts and crop tops. I was a good look, one he admired her in from time to time, just not when there was someone else by her side.

JJ tried his best not to notice the way her hand was clutched between Jackson’s, the skin around the back of her hand whitening under his grip as she made to start across the quiet street. Glancing at the boy he noted the scowl across his face, sizing up JJ like a lion to its prey.

If it were anyone else, JJ would have been in front of Jackson before he’d had the time to take another step, but he watched as the taller boy learnt to murmur something in her ear, a smirk growing across his lips. Whatever had been said most definitely did not have the intended effect because Kiara was shaking her hand from his grip, whipping her head to scowl.

She was too far away for JJ to make out what she was saying, but Kiara’s hands began to flit about her face as her words grew louder and louder. There was one he could discern for certain.

“ _ Asshole!”  _ followed by the resounding crack of skin hitting skin.

Jackson looked dazed and made an attempt to reach for Kiara’s hand but she pulled it away viciously, her eyes murderous. A bright red mark was beginning to bloom on Jackson’s cheek and he took one last look at JJ from across the street before stalking off down the road towards his shining black Mercedes.

Kiara stood with her arms crossed over her chest as she watched him go, letting him drive by as she flipped him off from the sidewalk. She took quick glances up the street before making her way across the road to where JJ was leant against  _ Genevive’s Haberdashery _ .

“What an absolute piece of work!”

“Good to see you too, princess.” he called with a wavering voice as she came to a stop in front of him, “it's been a minute,” he said gently, a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth.

“It wouldn’t have been,” she said, her mouth still in a thin line, “if someone hadn’t been too busy playing Pogues VS Kooks again, and if it were any other circumstance you’d be hearing my two cents Maybank”. Her eyes softened as he let out a chuckle at her outburst, “but it's nice seeing you too”.

This particular street was the border between the two societies of the island and only a few minutes of walking saw the change in scenery move from neatly mown lawns to panelled weatherboards and potholes. They chatted idly about the Pogues and JJ told her all about John B’s sorry attempt at teaching Sarah to surf. It turned out she could surf perfectly fine on her own, but when she humoured John B’s criticism, her form had turned to shit and she’d spent half her time in the water.

“I’m glad i wasn't on the receiving end of the slap,” JJ said with a lazy smile as they passed the fishmonger’s, waving to Frances, the owner. He didn’t want to probe into territory that made Kie uncomfortable and he was well aware of the way Kooks liked to talk about Pogues, especially the three boys Kie ran with, but something inside him itched to know what was being said.

Kie rolled her eyes and swung her arms in front of her.

“He deserved it, believe me,” she said in a bitter tone, “no one talks about my friends like that”.

“Kiara Carrera coming to my defence?” JJ mocked, a hand to his chest like a lady from one of those old black and white films Kie secretly loved.

Kie shoved him gently, a bemused look flickering across her face before her tone turned serious, “he called you a low life. _ Good thing I got you away from that lowlife scum, Maybank, isn’t it? _ ”

JJ hummed quietly. It was no secret what was said about him and his dad and certainly no surprise he was projected to become a carbon copy of his old man. “Maybe he was right, Kie,” he joked “you do hang with some serious riff-raff”. 

She laughed a loud genuine sound that carried through the air, along the quiet street. JJ always loved Kie’s laugh, so honest and open and nothing like the stupid breathy high pitched laughed the tourons used when they pretended to laugh at one of his jokes.

“Don’t be rude, that's my best friend you’re talking about!” She said incredulously.

The gravel crunched under JJ’s boots as they walked up the Chateau's driveway. Kie jostled him lightly and jumped when their hands brushed. “Sorry,” she muttered with a small smile.

Pope, John B and Sarah were down in the yard, Sarah entertaining a wrestling match between her boyfriend and his best friend.

“Hey!” she called, waving as JJ and Kie approached, “i gave up on trying to stop it”.

JJ dropped into the hammock off to the side, quickly joined by Kie who slid down into his side with gravity. He thought back to the time before last summer, joining with John B on a lazy evening in the hammock. It was the first time he really noticed that Kiara wasn't Kie anymore, she was  _ Kie _ . Her head had been resting on his arm, their bodies sinfully close in the heat of early summer and suddenly, as he watched her eyes trained on his lips, he’d realised there was a new fluttering in his heart that hadn’t been there before.

Now, they sat with their bodies pressed together. Music pumped from John B’s speaker as they all watched the antics unfolding in front of them. JJ let his arm slide around Kie and rest beside her hip, not quite holding her but close enough. There was no point pushing it, he decided, no point beating a dead horse.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr @simpforjiara  
> or check out my instagram @svaintz  
> <3


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